oh, how brightly you shine
by Asradiantasthesun
Summary: she is Lydia, but she's not and you are Stiles, but not really/you loved me and i was scared


I've just watched 4x11 and, well, Lydia's absence makes me furious, stalia makes me sick and season 4 makes me mad and sad and I had to do something with all these negative feelings so I wrote this one-shot. Please, remeber I'm not a native speaker. Hope you'll enjoy ;). Please, rewiev, it really means a lot for me.

* * *

Her hair is shockingly short now, cut just under her jawline; there are tiny wrinkles around her lips and in the corners of her eyes and she is not as pale as she used to be.

But she's still five foot three and her curls are still strawberry blonde and her green eyes shine like diamonds in the dimed light of the crowded restaurant and it's all coming back to you know; she's still the banshee queen of Beacon Hills and suddenly you are seventeen again and so, so painfully in love.

You spot her on the couch in the corner of the room. The first thing you notice is her dress; it's emerald green, ending just above her knees and it reminds you of the one she wore when you've last seen her ; on your graduation day. She raises her hand to tuck loose strand of hair behind her ear while talking with somebody on the phone and you notice a shiny ring on her finger . You wonder if she's exchanging 'I love you-s' with her husband or reminding her fiancé to buy milk

The thought of her being married freezes you for a moment. You didn't receive an invitation to the wedding , neither did Scott; but it doesn't mean anything. She didn't inform you about anything; not about her graduation from college, or receiving Fields Medal; everything you know, you know from newspapers, from Danny, who lived in the same dorm with her, from Kira, who used to call her to talk about old, good times. She cut all the strings connecting her with Beacon Hills and never came back.

You are not surprised by this fact, nor you are hurt.

You understand. You really do. You didn't even expect her to be here, that's why you weren't prepared for seeing her again.

You said goodbye to her long ago.

You just wonder if she sometimes wonders about you the way you wonder about her all the time.

You'd rather leave this place and pretend you've never seen her, but something is pulling you towards her; strong, yet invisible chord is guiding you through the crowd of people you used to know. You shake hands and say hi to the men who used to be your fellow players from the team and kiss cheeks of the girls who used to pass you on the corridors and you are slowly, gradually, moving closer and closer to her, until, suddenly, you nearly sweep her off her feet.

Her body is pressed to yours and you're standing face to face, so close you can count the freckles on her nose, so painfully close you feel her warmth through the material of her dress.

\- Stiles.- she whispers, her eyes opened wide, clearly shocked.

\- Lydia.- you breath out and say the first thing that comes to your mind.- You're not on heels.

You immediately slap yourself mentally, but she smiles awkwardly and takes one step away from you.

\- Well, I don't wear heels anymore.

Heels were the part of her, just like the color of her eyes or red lipstick on her lips, so you frown and ask why.

She shakes are arms and bites on her lower lip; it's clear for you, that she doesn't feel comfortable in this situation

( neither do you).

She tucks her hair behind her ear again; a nervous habit she must have developed in the past ten years and light breaks and shines inside the red ruby on her finger.

Heavy rock lands in your stomach.

Say something, Stiles.

She is so beautiful, standing there in front of you; so familiar and yet so distant, so strange.

\- Do you want a drink?- you manage to ask her and you are surprised that your voice is calm, not trembling even a bit.

However, you're even more surprised when she slowly nods her head.

\- Yes. I'd like a Martini, please.

\- Oh.- you try not to grin like an idiot, but it's really hard.- Of course. I'll be back in a minute.

You turn around to head towards the bar, when you hear her voice again. It's very quiet, barely even a whisper; but you hear it and she knows you hear it.

-Stiles, I'm glad we met.

You don't know who is more shocked; you or she herself.

You are back with your drinks in less than five minutes and she is still there, though you expected her to disappear, evaporate in the air. She is sitting on the couch again, her hands clenched on her phone as if she was holding on to the safety net while walking very high above the ground.

\- Here you are.- you hand her her glass and sit on the seat in front of her.

Your whiskey is a bit bitter and it burns your insides when you take first sip.

She gives you a small smile and starts playing with the straw, making olives bounce in the liquid.

\- Thanks. So- she clears her throat.- Is Scott here too?

\- No, he's not.- you wonder how much she actually knows about your lives and decides it must be even less than you know about hers.- Kira had to be in work tonight and Scott stayed with Lily. She's their daughter.- you explain quickly, when you see question written on her face. Her eyes grew wider for a moment and then she looks down, continues staring at the olives in her glass.

\- Oh. Lily. Nice name.- you start looking at the olives too; there are two of them, they are green and there are constantly moving, spinned by her straw. – How old is she?

\- Three.- you keep on staring, just like her. It's strangely fascinating.- She is the cutest thing ever, really. Dimples and everything, you know.

For a moment, there is a silence between you two ; no sounds, no words. The straw suddenly stops spinning and olives bump on the edges of the glass, nearly falling out of it.

Lydia puts her glass on the table, raises her head and looks you in the eyes.

\- No, I don't. – the fingers of her right hand tighten around the ring on the finger on her left one.- I don't know how cute she is, cause I've never seen her. I didn't even know she exists. I don't know where they work, or where you work, though I assume you are a policeman. – she doesn't even give you a chance to say something, she just keeps on talking.- I don't know if you are married to somebody or if you have children yourself. I know nothing about you now. And it's strange. And awkward. So let's stop pretending it's not.

Her hair are no longer put neatly behind her ears; they are framing her face, her cheeks are blushed and her eyes are gleaming and damn, she is seventeen again.

So you smile.

-Fine. Let's stop pretending.- you take another sip of whiskey.- Answering your rant; Kira is a teacher, they are having some kind of a meeting in school tonight. Scott's a veterinarian. And yes, I'm a policeman. How did you know?

She raises one eyebrow- god, it hurts.

\- I've always kind of felt you're going to end up doing the same job as your father.

\- Well, I'm not a sheriff. Just an ordinary detective. – you smile to her and your eyes land on her lips, slightly parted, red as her nails. – And I don't have a wife. Or children.

The corners of her lips tremble a bit, then she raises up her glass and takes a sip.

-And you?- you ask before you think it out.- Nice ring, by the way. He has a great taste.

She nearly chokes, but when she finally takes a breath, she smiles. And it's a real smile.

\- Yes. She had a great taste.

You think you might have opened your mouth a bit too wide and then she laughs out loud. There is a strange note in that laugh tough, sad, nostalgic.

\- I'm single, Stiles. This ring.. Well.- she pulls it off her finger and hands him. He holds it carefully; it's silver, with narrow band and single ruby.

\- Go ahead, read the inscription inside.- she looks in the other way, her hands clenched on the glass

\- … with your smile.- your read out loud and frown in confusion.- What does it mean?

\- Someone could be falling in love with your smile.- she nods.- It was a joke me and Allison used to tell. ''Stop frowning, Lydia'' – she tries to imitate her voice.- ''Someone could be falling in love with your smile''.

She is still staring in the distance, avoiding his gaze, sad smile painted on her lips.

\- I think it was supposed to be a Christmas present. Chris gave me some of her stuff and, among clothes and books, there were two rings. That one was in envelope addressed to me. There was a card inside too. I just couldn't leave it in the box to dust.- she shrugs.

You blink a couple of times and look at the ring once again. It's clearly worn out, you doubt she hasn't got it on her finger twenty four for seven.

You give it back to her.

\- I understand.

She puts it on her finger again and shakes her head.

\- No, you don't.- there is no anger in her voice, she just simply states the fact.- But that's okay. I don't want you to.

And you understand that.

She starts talking about her life and you learn that she's living in LA now, working for a big medical corporation. That she has an apartment near the Sunset Boulevard and a small dog.

She lives alone.

When she suddenly stops, you are both quiet for a while; but it's a good silence. You think you haven't experience this kind of silence since a really long time; it's a kind of silence that can exist only between two people who know each other really well, a silence which is gentle and kind and doesn't require filling.

You leave the club an hour later and you hand her your phone number, though you don't expect her to call.

* * *

And she doesn't.

She does other things instead.

First, she calls Kira; and the first call you receive is from Scott, who tells you how she casually showed on his doorsteps with a bag full of books about princesses killing dragons, teddy bears and tiny dresses.

Then, she calls Isaac and Cora, and your phone rings when you're at work. It's Isaac, who wanted to let you know she didn't change at all, not even a bit, except for hair.

Next is Derek, Parrish, even Malia, Melissa and your dad. She visits them, chats and acts like all those years didn't happen and they call you, to ask you what the hell is happening.

Last is Allison. You know that, because your drive next to the cemetery every day to work and you spot her car every day for two weeks.

Then it disappears.

The next evening you hear the knock to your doors. She is standing there; blushed cheeks , red lips, heels off and short strawberry blond hair.

Lydia and not Lydia, or maybe finally Lydia, does it really matter; you decide not.

You invite her in.

And she accepts your invitation.

You go to the living room and she sits on the sofa; last time you saw her there was when you were both still in high school. She sighs.

\- I'm a bit surprised you haven't moved out.

\- There was no need.- you sit beside her and you feel this strange, powerful urge to play with her hair and you almost do it. – When I was in college, dad moved to Melissa, so when I came back I decided there is no point in paying for a flat, if I have a house standing empty. Even if it's a bit too big for me.

She nods and looks around until a framed picture on the drawer catches her attention. She reaches out to see it better and gasps.

It's probably your favorite photo ever and it was taken in the same room you are sitting in now; Allison on Scott's laps, two of them laughing , you sitting on the floor and grinning like an idiot and Lydia with her head on your shoulder and half opened, sleepy eyes.

She stares at it for a moment and you know she recalls that evening; how everything was wild and beautiful and full of promises.

\- I made a mistake, when I left.- she says and it sounds more like she is talking to herself than to you, so you try to keep quiet.- I knew that in the moment I turned down your first call, but refused to do something about this. Meeting you, well, it made me realize how alone I am. How much I've missed you.

You, she said. You stop breathing.

\- Why did you leave, Lydia?- your voice is quiet and filled with the emotions that are burning your inside.- You didn't even say goodbye, didn't warn us. You just disappeared.

She puts the picture back on the drawer and turns around to face you; and then you realize she was crying silently all along.

\- I wanted not to be scared. I wanted to be normal, to have normal problems, normal, boring life.- she shrugs and bites her lip.- But I'm a banshee, Stiles. I didn't run from my problems, I run from the people who used to help me solve them. Allison would be so mad at me.

-That's not true.- you move closer to take her hands.- Allison would never let you go in the first place. I did. I was so stupid, Lydia.

She raises her head and blinks.

\- Stiles, among all the things I regret, I-

Everything inside you stop working for a moment and there is nothing around you, absolutely nothing but her voice and her green, green eyes.

\- You are my biggest regret.- you hear her saying.- I was scared, I was in love and I was stupid and Stiles, you are my biggest what if and-

You kiss her and you are both seventeen again and twenty eight still and everything changed, but nothing really changed at all.

Her lips taste just like they used to taste and her skin smells like it used to smell and you two fit perfectly together, more perfectly than you've ever dared to imagine, your bodies are like two pieces of the jigsaw puzzles and she gasps and you are speechless and damn, she is so, so beautiful, is it real, is it, it is and it's so much more than you've ever thought it would be.

* * *

Was it worth waiting, oh yes, yes, it was.

* * *

_-Why didn't you ask me out? In high school, I mean._

_\- Would you say yes?_

_\- Yes._

_\- I didn't know that._

_\- Will you ask me out?_

_\- What will you say?_

_\- Yes._

_\- Go out with me, Lydia._

_\- Yes._

Yes.


End file.
